


Stuck with You

by FidotheFinch



Series: Batfam Week 2020 [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, cartoon violence, there is a piggyback ride involved what more could you want, they love each other even if they aren't great at showing it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-22 21:55:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23101000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FidotheFinch/pseuds/FidotheFinch
Summary: Tim shifted his weight carefully. “If the drug dealers want to get here soon, my back would appreciate it.”The tube slide was made for children, after all. It was not meant to accommodate two vigilantes for hours on end.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Damian Wayne
Series: Batfam Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1660387
Comments: 16
Kudos: 278
Collections: Tales from the Cave





	Stuck with You

**Author's Note:**

> Written for BatfamWeek2020 Day 3: bonding during a mission/injury.  
> Warnings: blood

“For the record, this is the singular _worst_ hiding place I have ever had the displeasure of using.” Damian’s legs were cramping from holding his position for so long, but he didn’t dare move. The rain made everything slick, and he couldn’t afford to lose what traction he had.

“Yeah, well, you’re welcome to find a better one.” Tim’s voice, coming from somewhere behind and slightly above Damian, was too tired to sound annoyed. He was having difficulty holding still, too. “Still beats staying to take care of B.”

Damian scrunched his nose at the reminder. His father did not take the flu gracefully. “There is no time to rework our strategy. If this plan fails, it will be your fault alone.”

He could almost hear the eye roll. “Uh-huh. Okay, Robin.”

A noise came from outside, and they both stilled, straining their ears. It came closer, but when it passed the opening of their hiding place it was no bigger than a squirrel.

Tim shifted his weight carefully. “If the drug dealers want to get here soon, my back would appreciate it.”

The tube slide was made for children, after all. It was not meant to accommodate two vigilantes for hours on end.

The slide was bright yellow, the inside was covered with lewd graffiti, and it smelled like feet. But it was a small price to pay for the shelter the tube provided. As Damian had to begrudgingly agree, it was the only real hiding place on the playground close enough they would be able to catch the dealer in the act.

Lo and behold, the playground mulch was disturbed again as another figure shuffled by the slide in the dark. By the two-beat rhythm, Damian guessed it was a human.

They fell into silence.

Several minutes passed. The lone figure circled the playground several times, never quite finding a place to rest to wait.

Finally, the feet stilled. Tim tapped Damian on the shoulder, and Damian nodded he noticed. Within a minute, another set of footsteps ambled across the playground, guided by the glow of a flashlight.

“Are you Ray?”

“Depends on who’s asking.”

The voices were muffled by the plastic, and even Damian had trouble making out the words. Carefully, he let himself slide down their hiding place. Just an inch.

A hand tapped his shoulder.

Damian scowled and looked back at Tim, who shook his head.

Damian rolled his eyes, threw off Tim’s hand, and braced his legs to prepare another miniscule movement.

When he turned back, there was a dog at the base of the slide.

Almost as though it could sense his gaze, its eyes shot over to him.

It growled.

“Up, _up_!” Damian hissed, pushing on Tim’s foot to convey the message.

The dog jumped onto the lip at the base of the slide and started barking. Damian had barely risen an inch before it tried to climb after him. Its teeth snapped around the empty air where his foot had been half a second earlier.

Damian grit his teeth and kicked out at it, wincing at the yelp it gave when he managed to clip its nose. The dog slid down and off the bottom of the slide, but there was no use in staying.

They had been spotted.

“Hey! Who’s there?” The light swiveled and illuminated the slide, highlighting the stark graffiti on the inside. Then it wobbled, and there was the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.

Damian crept backward, but his boot hit a wet spot and he lost traction.

“Robin!”

Damian’s cape pulled taut, and it was his only saving grace when a bullet shot straight through the slide’s walls, narrowly missing Damian’s stomach. Tim hauled him up out of reach.

“Time to go.”

Damian couldn’t argue.

He scrambled up the slide after Tim, only pausing a second to allow Red Robin enough time to throw a smoke bomb ahead of their exit. Rebreathers in place, he followed Tim out into the open air.

Another gunshot went off. Red Robin flinched in front of him, but it didn’t slow his momentum. The older boy leapt over the iron railing and dove to the ground to face their pursuers head-on. Damian ran further down the play structure and waited until Red Robin had pushed the man back far enough he could swing around the fire pole and use the momentum to kick the man across the head.

The man fell hard.

Damian landed easily and wiped his hands off. “Tt.”

The other man, the one who had arrived earlier, was already across the field lining the playground. Ran at the first sign of trouble. As Damian watched, Red Robin’s grapple hook wrapped around his legs, and the man fell.

Smirking, Damian looked to Tim, ready to offer a quip. He paused at what he saw.

“You’re bleeding.”

Tim’s jaw twitched. His grapple fell from a lax hand. “Just a flesh wound.”

It was not.

Even as he said the words, his leg buckled underneath himself. Damian dove in to catch his shoulders before he hit the ground.

Tim clamped a hand over his thigh, but it wasn’t enough to stop blood from seeping out between his gloved fingers. “This _would_ happen.”

Damian shifted Tim’s weight, pulling the taller boy’s arm over his shoulder as support. It didn’t really work; the height difference too great. “I will have to carry you.”

Tim snorted. “Yeah, right.”

But they didn’t really have any other options.

So Damian crouched down in front of Tim. He braced himself on his knees. “Here.”

Tim just stood there. “I can’t believe you’re offering me a piggyback ride.”

Damian grit his teeth. “I can still leave you here. I could call _B_ —”

“That’s a low blow.” Tim braced one hand over Damian’s shoulder. “Are you sure?”

Damian scoot back underneath him more, so Tim’s front was resting against his back. “Hurry, before I change my mind.”

Tim still hesitated. But when he leapt up with one foot, Damian was easily able to catch him underneath the thighs. Tim hissed at the pressure on his leg. “Watch it!”

“TT. Hold on.”

Tim wrapped his arms around Damian’s neck. When Damian stood, he could not straighten his posture lest he risk overbalancing, but he held Tim’s weight relatively easily. “This should not be so easy. When is the last time you ate?”

Tim was quiet. That’s when Damian knew the time to joke was over. “Red Robin?”

“You know, I don’t know?”

Damian pushed Tim up a little so he could reach the treats in his pocket. The dog was watching them, and he could tell by its silhouette it didn’t like them. “You should take better care of yourself.”

Finding the treats, he threw one over for the dog. It sniffed it before gently picking it up and trotting over to sit next to its felled master to eat.

“Because I’m useless as a crimefighter when I haven’t eaten?”

“Because you’re a human and your body requires nourishment.” When Tim didn’t answer, Damian jostled the load on his back. “You are not allowed to lose consciousness.”

Tim hummed behind him. “I’m going to call the police, let them know they’re here.”

It was clearly deflection, but Damian let it slide. Blood loss, after all.

The smaller boy carried Tim past the playground, out of the park. He picked through the city, trying to keep out of sight. It was a quiet night, but they were compromised. He did not want to give any idling criminals ideas.

For the most part, Tim remained silent. Damian tapped his legs every few minutes, and Tim tapped his chest back. _Still here_.

When they had reached a safe house, Damian carefully lowered Tim onto the fire escape outside the apartment so he could open the window.

“Thanks.”

Damian stopped fiddling with the locking mechanism in his surprise. Then he doubled down his efforts to cover his hesitation. “TT. You must be delirious from blood loss.”

“No, really,” Tim whispered. “Thank you.”

The window slid open on silent hinges. Damian stepped through to make sure it was safe, and stepped out again to help Tim through. “You do not need to thank me. I am only doing this so Father does not bench me, as well.”

Tim pushed his cowl back to reveal a look of pain. “Oh, God. I hadn’t even thought of that. He’s going to kill me. You should have just left me to bleed out.”

“I would not do that.”

Damian dragged Tim to the bathroom, where he forced him to lie down so he could examine the wound. It wasn’t as bad as they had thought. The bullet had sliced a deep cut across the exterior of Tim’s thigh. Nothing a good compression bandage and a few weeks’ rest couldn’t fix.

Damian pulled out his first aid kit and began working on his leg. “I was serious. You really should take better care of yourself.”

Tim’s face screwed up. “Never thought I would hear that from you.”

Damian frowned. “Despite our history, I do not wish you ill.”

A sigh. “I know that.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence as Damian finished dressing the wound. He helped Tim sit up against the bathroom tiles, and fished out some painkillers (and light sedatives) for him.

Tim downed the pills dry. After making a face at the taste, he bluntly asked, “Are you going to tell Bruce?”

Damian studied the wall next to Tim’s head. He knew Tim was talking about more than the immediate wound. “Not yet.” He sliced his gaze to make eye contact with Tim. “A night’s rest, and then I will make a decision.”

It was no promise. Tim nodded in acknowledgement. “Okay.”

Damian acted as a support so Tim could stand, and together they hobbled over to the couch in the sparse living room.

They didn’t sit long before Tim slurred, “You drugged me.”

Damian smirked. “Technically, you drugged yourself.”

Tim groaned, sliding further down the couch. “Still beats spending the night with Bruce when he’s high on Nyquil.”

On that, Damian could agree.

He waited until Tim was asleep to send a quick message to Alfred about their whereabouts and Tim’s injury. Then he pulled a blanket from the bedroom and draped it over Tim’s body before stumbling to bed himself.

There was a conversation to be had in the morning, but it could wait. It had been a long night, after all, and Damian could not risk being made a hypocrite.

Rest it was.


End file.
